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“Ah-h! I suspected it. And now again with the dollar up.”

Five passes to her credit found Taylor a bad loser. She was making it personal, and after each success Jim watched triumph flutter across her face. She was doubling with each throw–such luck could scarcely last.

“Better go easy,” he cautioned her timidly.

“Ah, but watch this one,” she whispered. It was eight on the dice and she called her number.

“Little Ada, this time we’re going South.”

Ada from Decatur rolled over the table. Nancy was flushed and half-hysterical, but her luck was holding. She drove the pot up and up, refusing to drag. Taylor was drumming with his fingers on the table, but he was in to stay.

Then Nancy tried for a ten and lost the dice. Taylor seized them avidly. He shot in silence, and in the hush of excitement the clatter of one pass after another on the table was the only sound.

Now Nancy had the dice again, but her luck had broken. An hour passed. Back and forth it went. Taylor had been at it again–and again and again. They were even at last–Nancy lost her ultimate five dollars.

“Will you take my check,” she said quickly, “for fifty, and we’ll shoot it all?” Her voice was a little unsteady and her hand shook as she reached to the money.

Clark exchanged an uncertain but alarmed glance with Joe Ewing. Taylor shot again. He had Nancy’s check.

“How ’bout another?” she said wildly.”Jes’ any bank’ll do–money everywhere as a matter of fact.”

Jim understood–the “good old corn” he had given her–the “good old corn” she had taken since. He wished he dared interfere–a girl of that age and position would hardly have two bank accounts. When the clock struck two he contained himself no longer.

“May I–can’t you let me roll ’em for you?” he suggested, his low, lazy voice a little strained.

Suddenly sleepy and listless, Nancy flung the dice down before him.

“All right–old boy! As Lady Diana Manners says, ‘Shoot ’em, Jelly-bean’–My luck’s gone.”

“Mr. Taylor,” said Jim, carelessly, “well shoot for one of those there checks against the cash.”

Half an hour later Nancy swayed forward and clapped him on the back.

“Stole my luck, you did.” She was nodding her head sagely.

Jim swept up the last check and putting it with the others tore them into confetti and scattered them on the floor. Someone started singing, and Nancy kicking her chair backward rose to her feet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced.”Ladies–that’s you Marylyn. I want to tell the world that Mr. Jim Powell, who is a well-known Jelly-bean of this city, is an exception to a great rule–‘lucky in dice–unlucky in love.’ He’s lucky in dice, and as matter fact I–I love him. Ladies and gentlemen, Nancy Lamar, famous dark-haired beauty often featured in the Herald as one th’ most popular members of younger set as other girls are often featured in this particular case. Wish to announce–wish to announce, anyway, Gentlemen—-” She tipped suddenly. Clark caught her and restored her balance.

“My error,” she laughed, “she stoops to–stoops to–anyways—- We’ll drink to Jelly-bean … Mr. Jim Powell, King of the Jelly-beans.”

And a few minutes later as Jim waited hat in hand for Clark in the darkness of that same corner of the porch where she had come searching for gasolene, she appeared suddenly beside him.

“Jelly-bean,” she said, “are you here, Jelly-bean? I think–” and her slight unsteadiness seemed part of an enchanted dream–“I think you deserve one of my sweetest kisses for that, Jelly-bean.”

For an instant her arms were around his neck–her lips were pressed to his.

“I’m a wild part of the world, Jelly-bean, but you did me a good turn.”